Ispent most of my 20s dating handsome lotharios – pretty boys who steered clear of commitment and had flexible approaches to the truth. When I found myself suddenly and unexpectedly single in my early 30s, I decided it was time to try against my usual type. Enter: Howie, a man who, at face value, didn’t resemble any of my exes. He was short, compact, and ordinary looking with brown hair and eyes – like George Costanza, if he had a full head of hair. The important part was that he was kind – at least at first. A chef by trade, Howie relished cooking me meals and sending me home with a fresh batch of made-from-scratch cookies at the end of the night.

The only problem was that I didn’t feel a strong physical connection with him – and not for lack of trying. I thought if I kept dating him, at

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